


The Enforcer and the Inspector

by KonstantineXIII



Series: Meeting Again [3]
Category: Psycho-Pass, The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, G!P, Hopelessly Professional Mutual Obsession, Mad Hound Clarke, Madness, OOC, Pretty Dark Stuff, Psycho Pass AU, Right off the bat, Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:59:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KonstantineXIII/pseuds/KonstantineXIII
Summary: “Do you know what Clarke feels when she looks at you?”Lexa almost lost her breath at the question.Love. A deep, smoldering, love. A love with six sets of teeth, but arms of softest tenderness.“I don’t care.” She replied instead, the nonchalance burning her inside out. “I would wager she resents me, for using her body.” The eyes squared into the psychiatrist’s, “Griffin is a latent criminal. A mad one. A fine Hound, but mad all the same. Why should I care what she thinks of me?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Psycho Pass is one of my favorite animes. If you like gore and badassery, I highly recommend it. Out of character warning for a few people, but I had a blast with this. Light GP.

**Notes: A Psycho Pass is a reading of an individual’s mind via cymatic scan. It shows a Crime Coefficient, a Hue, a graph of how the individual’s Psycho Pass changes over time, and the profile of the person. It is calculated by the Sibyl System. The worsening of a Psycho Pass is taken care of through therapy sessions. But if one ignores such warnings and their Psycho Pass is further clouded, they are declared a latent criminal, arrested, and sent to therapy.**

* * *

 

Octavia had never liked being late. Being late stressed her out, and she had constantly been told that the stress could cloud her hue. Still, she found herself flirting tardiness to her first assignment with the MWPSB, and she cursed softly under her breath, the mild expletive misting out from her lips and into the freezing rain that night.

“Excuse me!” She called out, shouldering muttering and concerned citizens aside as politely as she could manage. “Coming through!”

She reached the fore of the throng, and with a small amount of labored breathing, observed her destination. There, just in front of her, was a makeshift tent, sheltering a row of tables and another figure bent over the equipment there. The tent was on the outskirts of a densely constructed slum, all iron and choking smog.

The young woman checked her watch.

_Barely not late._

She made her way under the canopy, her approach catching the attention of the tall figure there.

“Excuse me, are you Inspector Lexa Woods?” she stated clearly.

Lexa Woods quickly glanced over the woman before her, and Octavia did the same. Ms. Woods was an impressive figure, she reflected.

_She is tall, maybe even the average of a man’s height._

She wore a man’s suit, too. Black pants, black jacket, black tie. Form-fitting though it was, it gave her a feminine air of dominance. Her long, mahogany hair was fixed tightly to her head in a professional bun- an impressive display of long-suffering subjugation to the hairstyle. Pulled back, it revealed the sharp contours of the woman’s face, and did nothing to hide the piercing emerald of her eyes.

_No doubt, eyes that have rooted a latent criminal to the ground in intimidation. An imposing figure, indeed. Hopefully, I will learn a lot from her._

For her part, Lexa was not as impressed. Not without cause, though. Octavia was not one to strike such an imposing presence. Below average in height, and slight in stature, a simple women’s suit, as the MWPSB employees were ordered their attire to be.

“Yes, I am Lexa Woods.” The taller woman answered.

_Even her voice demands authority! So solemn and low._

“May I presume you to be my new partner?”

Octavia nodded intently. She bowed at the waist and saluted, as protocol mandated.

“Inspector Octavia Blake,” She voiced confidently. “Glad to be here, Woods.”

The dark-haired woman nodded tepidly.

“No need for such stiff formality, Inspector.” She glanced down to the files in front of her and back up to the obviously younger woman. “Getting comfortably acquainted will have to wait, as we’ll be needing to move quickly tonight.”

Octavia nodded, aware that she had not been called on before her first official day just to observe. Before she could open her mouth to inquire as to the specifics of the case, she heard the near-by sound of a siren screaming.

The noise of the busy city, the repeated askance from the drones to have citizens move away from the area they surrounded with holographic tape, the hissing of the rain did little to shield her ears from realizing that the siren was coming closer. Soon, the source was in sight.

“A paddy wagon?” She murmured with inflection.

An enormous truck, bullet proof and industrial, was rolling neatly over the distance to her location, MWPSB shield glowing in the night.  

Lexa’s voice sounded behind her, firmer, more structured than before.

“You should know.” The woman began. “The people you are about to meet are not like you and I. They are latent criminals, dangerous in their own rights. They were given the chance to work with the MWPSB instead of sitting in therapy housing for the rest of their lives. They are hunting dogs. Hounds. It takes a criminal to find a criminal, that is all. Your job is to oversee these Enforcers while they do their job and eliminate the threat.”

Octavia swallowed shallowly, and nodded.

“Of course, Lexa.” She muttered, observing the back of the now-parked vehicle lower, and as four beings filed out.

The quiet cadence of their steps ceased, and they formed a loose horseshoe around the Inspectors. Time being of the essence, Lexa began her brief by addressing the newly arrived women.

“This is Inspector Octavia Blake, your new Handler.”

Octavia did her best not to fidget under the four pairs of eyes directed her way.

 _What a different array of people and emotions_ , she noted curiously.

“Well, well.” A velvet rough voice glided from the lips of her left most Enforcer. “What a pretty thing you are, Inspector. Hopefully we get to keep you.”

A wink followed the statement, and Octavia tried not to gape like a fish out of water. She certainly had not expected _that_ to be the first thing her team said to her. And from such a disarmingly beautiful woman! The speaker had loose, golden blonde curls, the neon holographs reflecting off the long mane. Her face was sculpted more than set, with unblemished skin and carmine lips; the woman could have been a model. Most noticeable, though, were her eyes. Dancing, laughing – haunting- blue eyes.

Another Enforcer laughed jovially.

“Clarke! Don’t jump her too early!” A loud guffaw followed. “You’ll scare her off!” This woman was a hazel-eyed brunette, the light lines on her face bespeaking years of either laughing or worrying. Or both.

“Of course not, Alie.” This woman, Clarke, allowed. “I merely wished to welcome her.”

“And what better place to make her feel at home than the outskirts of this shit hole.” Another voice growled. Octavia observed the tall, svelte form of a different blonde. This one, unlike the others, could almost be instantly recognized as a latent criminal even without a hue check. She had wicked eyes, a light brown so disarmingly predator, Octavia almost recoiled. Thin lips that begged to pull in a snarl or snap revealed teeth just a tad too sharp in the canines.

“Peace, Anya.” Clarke chided gently. “I merely strive for entertainment, you know that.”

Anya gave a sort of grimace, and Octavia had to reevaluate the expression to realize that it was her version of a sinister sort of smile.

“True.” Her attention snapped to Lexa. “So should we be entertained. What’s the case?”

Lexa visibly flexed her jaw - a movement that did not escape Octavia as undeniably attractive. The taller Inspector tapped her wrist, the holoscreen appearing before her eyes. Octavia and the Enforcers did the same. The profile of a man opened, history, statistics, video and hue checks available for reading.

“This man, James Davis, went missing two days ago. His boss reported it. He was found an hour ago by a drone, which had been doing an area stress level scan, and noticed an elevation. The drone gave inquiry and discovered Davis holed up in some foxhole, avoiding the scanners. When he found to be discovered with too high a psycho pass, he ran.”

She tapped her wrist and sent the video before her to her surrounding team.

“This clip was caught just before he disappeared into this ghetto. He’s apparently taken a woman hostage and is probably doing God knows what to her.” Lexa’s voice had dropped and her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the iron jungle before her.

“This area is off the grid, and no drones enter it, as it is technically uninhabited. Instead, a city of homeless people and squatters has taken residence. We’re to find Davis and detain him.”

Lexa nodded, finished with her missive.

“Griffin, Porter, you’re to go with Inspector Blake. Forrester and Lightenbach, with me. I want this bastard locked up before he kills someone. Gear up and move out.”

The Inspector and her Enforcers moved to a cart unloaded from the paddy wagon and watched as the cart unlocked, and brought forth holstered guns, grip outward.

The three retrieved their weapons, all momentarily pausing. Octavia soon understood the pause. When she had moved to the cart with her assigned Enforcers, she reached her hand out to grip the weapon. Once freed, her vision moved with the dizzyingly quick images of a schematic scrolling before her eyes, and a cool, disembodied robotic voice sounded in her ear.

“Dominator Portable Psychological Diagnosis and Suppression System has been activated. User authentication: Inspector Octavia Blake. Affiliation: Public Safety Bureau, Criminal Investigation Department. Dominator usage approval confirmed. You are a valid user.”

Octavia’s vision cleared and she was left with only a constant small circle in the corner of her vision that never cleared, the “- -“ indicating it would hold the readings of a psycho pass.

“Enforcement mode is Non-Lethal Paralyzer. Aim calmly and disable the target.”

The whole experience took merely a few seconds, but it still left her reeling a small bit.

“Don’t worry,” a voice near her said. Octavia turned to see the fourth Enforcer. An average heighted black woman of an unusual stocky build. Had it not been for the kindness in the woman’s eyes, she would have mistaken the Hound for a man. “Handling the Dominator will soon be second nature.”

Octavia managed a smile, noticing that the woman’s own handling of the weapon was swift and sure, eyes glowing momentarily with her own authentication of usage.

“Thank you,” Octavia responded. “I don’t think Lexa introduced everyone?”

The woman’s countenance spoke of a methodical type of seriousness. Still, her eyes were lukewarm in their observance of the new Inspector. Not pity shining through, but understanding.

“The taller, dishwater blonde is Anya Forrester. The smaller one is Alie Lightenbach. I am Indra Porter.” She inclined her head respectfully.

“Indra is the perfect gentleman, I assure you, Inspector.”

Octavia saw the beautiful Hound had joined them, Dominator in hand. Indra had chuckled lowly at the woman’s jest. The ocean blue eyes sparkled at Octavia, and her fully lips parted once more to form that peculiar tone of speech the woman carried.

“Clarke Griffin,” the woman greeted candidly. “I am Indra’s better half, most of the time,” here, she winked at the other Hound, who fully laughed.

“Pay no attention to Clarke, Blake.” Indra mellowed lowly. “As you no doubt can see, she likes to play.”

Octavia met the taller Enforcer’s crystal eyes and smiled lightly.

“Does she play cleanly or dirty, then, Porter?”

At her equally paced response, the Enforcers shared smiles with her, and Octavia instantly felt the unease at the situation dissipate within her.

“It does not really matter, does it?” Indra was saying. “If you dislike how we play, you should just shoot us.”

Clarke started to move past them, realizing that time was of the essence. Indra’s parting words placed the unease back in Octavia’s stomach.

“We are, after all, latent criminals as well.”

Octavia nodded and followed the two into the industrial ghetto. The two Enforcers moved quickly and efficiently, Dominators poised at the ready, senses on high alert.

Octavia tried to emulate their sleek movements, and found the practice not too foreign to her. The weight at the end of her hands, though, was. The Dominator was jet-black metal, save for the lines of power-effused, neon blue lining joints in the solid gun. Hyperaware of the power she held in her hands as well as Indra’s comment about the Enforcers being criminals too, Octavia could not help but try it.

Lifting the Dominator only slightly, she pointed it at Indra’s back.

Again, the cool voice entered her ear.

“Crime Coefficient is 118. Enforcement mode is Non-Lethal Paralyzer.”

 _I see_.

The team made their way through mostly un-occupied streets and gangways. A fizzle in Octavia’s recently acquired earpiece brought her attention to her wrist holograph with the older brunette’s profile on it.

“Clarke, Indra, swing back around the old tire factory.” Alie’s voice sounded in her ear. We’re about to have a standoff, but just in case he bolts.”

“Got it.” Clarke responded with a touch to her ear. She and Indra pocketed their Dominators and started running to cover the escape alleys. The two split up, and on a whim, Octavia chose to follow Clarke.

Still running, the two were alarmed as a loud,

“Fuck!” was heard.

Clarke stopped.

“Anya? What happened?” She asked sharply.

There was a hiss and a reply.

“Fucker’s got a gun. A good ol’ fashioned revolver with bullets and everything.”

The Hound’s face seemed to go gaunt.

“Is everyone alright?” She nearly screamed. “Is L-“

“She’s fine.” Anya snapped, clearly deeply irritated. “We’re all fine.”

Octavia watched the beautiful woman breath easily again, her eyes re-sharpening at Anya’s next message.

“He’s got his hostage, though. And she’s in a state, Clarke. If I’m reading you right, he’s headed right up your way.”

The woman gave her thanks and moved like a whirlwind, finding things in the alley to over turn and rearrange. Then, she moved further down the dead end and opened a door on one side of the alley.

Octavia followed quickly, ears straining for any type of sound. Clarke pushed her into the room, and she found an oddly underground structure. There was a small platform, with a set of three shallow stairs to a more open loading dock. The only thing occupying it was dozens of barrel drums and an old box or two. Thankfully, the interior was still lit with electric lamps attached to the walls.

She quickly was pushed to stand behind the door, in the joint that would not crush her were it slammed open. Clarke herself pressed her back to the immediate wall inside the door.

 _What a wonderful trap it is, Clarke!_ Octavia crowed. _Truly, the Enforcers are chosen to do this for a reason._

Banging from somewhere down the alley reached her ears, and she stilled her breath. She stole a glance at the Enforcer with her and marveled in half a second. Clarke’s face was of pure concentration, a sheen of sweat on it from her efforts earlier. Her hands were steady as they gripped the Dominator, not a muscle out of place.

 _She’s still very beautiful._ Octavia wondered. _How is it that she is a latent criminal?_

Then, the door burst open, and an awful stench reached her nose, as well as an assault on the ears from desperate, frantic breathing. It was the breathing of a rat caught in a trap. Her view of the action was blocked, but she could hear.

“Release the girl.” Clarke’s deadly voice sounded out.

“Fire and I kill her!” the crazed Davis shouted.

“I will take the both of you with me. Her psycho pass is damaged almost as much as yours now.” The threat was not idle.

The roar Davis strained was absolutely lunatic. A loud shift in movement, “-No!” and a sickening thump was heard simultaneously as the barrier the door provided was wretch and replaced. The sonic spit and smell of ozone let Octavia know that Clarke had fired the Dominator.

But the hand at her throat let her know that Davis had been too quick. Davis was a large man, and fat, too. Where he had clutched Octavia around the throat, he used it to propel her into his body as a shield from the Enforcer still aiming a weapon at him. Apparently, the man had bodily thrown the hostage from him to distract Clarke, and the girl had landed in the below platform. He then tried to use the door to shield himself, and found Octavia behind it.

In her shock, Octavia had dropped the Dominator registered to her in favor of trying to claw at the powerful hand around her neck. A cold ring of metal pressed against her temple, and Octavia knew it to be the revolver Anya had warned of.

Davis stank of alcohol, sweat, sex, and fear. It was almost as choking an odor as the hand at her throat.

His mad eyes rolled about but held consciousness.

“On the ground! Throw your gun on the fucking ground!” He bellowed.

Clarke switched displeased eyes from Octavia, to Davis, to the gun, dizzyingly quickly. Finally, she dropped the weapon.

Davis wheezed with glee and trudged two steps forward to drag the Dominator towards him with his foot. Surprisingly swiftly, he bent to retrieve the Dominator, abandoning his pistol in favor of the highly sophisticated weapon.

As if on cue, the door opened a second time with a bang to find the more senior Inspector at the ready, her two Enforcers flanking, Dominators akimbo. The giant of a man screamed.

“No! You too, you fucking bitches! Throw them down or she dies!

Inspector Lexa Woods smirk, her finger finding the trigger. The Dominator itself had expanded into sleek extensions, the neon glowing menacingly in what only the Lethal Eliminator mode could only do.

Octavia’s eyes widened. Right before the electric wave of energy appeared from the muzzle of Lexa’s Dominator, she heard a click, and a cool voice.

“User not authorized.”

And then the man behind her was shot. More quickly than she could react, she was tugged forward, and spared only a glance over her shoulder. The Dominator had hit Davis’ shoulder, and it bulged grotesquely. The horrifying growth of muscle and sinew continued to swell his body until it twisted and buckled. Then, he exploded in a glorious spray of crimson and pink.

Octavia only blinked, the hand that had yanked her harshly away from the gore disappeared, and she watched the brunette head descend the stairs quickly to call for the victim of Davis, and see if she was all right.

“Ma’am?” she called. “Miss?”

- _fsthh-_

Unfortunately for Lexa, the victim was not all right. For only when Octavia saw that Lexa’s step faltered, did she notice that the woman had lit a match. And it was very odd, that the small match reflect that much light.

“Ma’am.” Lexa’s voice was calm. “Please put that out.”

Anya, Alie, and Octavia, all, grasped their Dominators and pointed it at what was clearly the new target.

“Crime Coefficient is 206.5. Enforcement mode is Non-lethal Paralyzer.”

“Stop!”

It was Clarke who had cried out, blue eyes wild. “The floor.”

And their attention was drawn to it. The reflection now made sense. It was indeed reflection – there was liquid flooding the lower tier of the room. It only took an inhalation to figure out what it was.

That sharp, acrid scent – gasoline.

Lexa very calmly put her hands in the air, as though surrendering to the terrified girl.

“Ma’am, please.” Her voice was soft and low. It made the girl shiver, the flame reflecting the violent trembling. “Do not be scared. You will not be harmed.”

The girl nearly screamed in derisive mirth.

“Harmed?” her eyes blew even wider than normal. “Harmed?! I have already been harmed!” She shook so strongly, Octavia’s heart froze in her chest that the burning match would simply drop from the girl’s fingers. “I have been- been brutalized! Raped! Beaten like an animal! I know my hue must be unrecoverable, and I refuse to be locked away in therapy! And I am taking you with me!”

The chokingly tense atmosphere did something peculiar, then, Octavia noticed. The dread of watching Lexa, up to her ankles in gasoline, burn to death never left, but somehow shifted. This shift occurred when slowly, the chestnut hair turned to make eye contact with the blue eyes that had grown dead and blank.

It was this expression that Lexa turned away from, but Octavia could not. Clarke’s face was that of one who was not yet aware directly after waking. No register of input, no iota of life. And it was frightening.

The Enforcers at Octavia’s side noticed her staring, and did something else peculiar then, too. The women made eye contact with one another, and Anya pivoted to point her Dominator at Clarke. Clarke – who had picked up the resting pistol and held it at her side.

_What in the world?_

Octavia was barely able to believe she was coherent enough to think the words consciously. The situation was too tense; it was wire taut and showed no signs of easing.

Until the match went out. The chemical coating the tip must have been either cheap or too strong, for the flame went out as soon as it had burned through its catalyst. And it was then that the girl truly feared for her life. Because she found herself facing a woman so fiercely beautiful, so terrifyingly set ablaze in looks, and so, so, incredibly armed.

Clarke had stepped into the pool of gasoline in the moment the girl realized that her plan had failed, and raised the deadly weapon to her head.

“Clarke!” It was Anya, who had followed the Hound down into the tier, Dominator by her side, a hand tugging the woman’s coat insistently. “Jesus fuck, woman, she’s alright now, see?”

Octavia realized with a tardy click; Clarke was going to shoot this girl. Kill her. Murder her. And the haunting words of Indra echoed in her mind. So she raised her Dominator. And gasped at the cool voice synchronized with a cry from the Inspector to hold her fire.

“Crime Coefficient is 343.7. Enforcement mode is Lethal Eliminator. Aim carefully and eliminate the target.”

Octavia’s heart rate tripled as the Dominator in her hands whirred and expanded, the glow increasing to allow the power to destroy.

_343.7? Clarke! What kind of monstrous being had they made an Enforcer?_

That being chose to speak directly to the trembling girl, her voice such a softness that Octavia would assume it meant for a lover if she could not have heard the words.

“You have sacrificed your life by threating what is most precious to me.” The woman caressed the syllables. Her eyes were on fire, their flame pyres of near madness. “You did not know, but you still must pay the price. For what if you had succeeded?”

The hand swiftly cocked the hammer of the gun without flaw or hesitation.

“Lexa!” Alie screamed, her Dominator still on the girl. “Do something!”

With an odd sort of choked sound, muffled deep in her throat, the tall woman crossed to the Enforcer in two strides and took her jaw in between her hands. Not a nanosecond went by, and the two were connected at the mouth.

Octavia gasped, her surprise so great, she forgot to lower even her Dominator from Clarke.

For the two were not just connected. Lexa parted the shorter woman’s mouth with her teeth and tongue, and Clarke bridged the gap, her free hand gripping Lexa’s suit jacket, pulling each other closer.

A faint digital click entered her train of thought, and Octavia’s jaw dropped at the reading the Dominator was giving her.

“Target’s Threat Judgment has been updated. Crime Coefficient is 334. Enforcement mode is Lethal Eliminator.”

Lexa slid a hand into the sun-bleached locks tenderly.

“Target’s Threat Judgment has been updated. Crime Coefficient is 319.9. Enforcement mode is Lethal Eliminator.”

Clarke pressed herself flat against the tall Inspector.

“Target’s Threat Judgment has been updated. Crime Coefficient is 304. Enforcement mode is Lethal Eliminator.”

A deep-set hum growled, the tongue that had caused it warm and wet.

“Target’s Threat Judgment has been updated. Crime Coefficient is 299.8. Enforcement mode is Non-lethal Paralyzer.”

Octavia pulled the trigger.

No sooner had the honey-haired Enforcer collapsed with a pained cry into the dark Inspector’s quick arms, than Alie fired on the girl, who did not have so comfortable a landing.

The silence that ensued was deafening, save for Octavia’s own labored breathing.

Her dark eyes darted around the room, two Enforcers standing, and two Inspectors. She observed the Inspector currently supporting the full weight of the third Enforcer.

 _Whatever this is, whatever relationship the two of them share,_ Octavia thought blankly, _It is not simply one of convenience._ The way the Inspector held the woman in her arms was proof enough. The tall woman had been quick to catch the stunned Enforcer, and even quicker to adjust her into a position more suitable for a bride to cross the threshold.

Her breathing calmed.

She finally composed herself enough to speak, and she demurely opened her mouth.

“-How about we explain later? Cause it’s fuckin confusing, and this place is a fuckin shit hole.” The eloquent Anya shifted her feet, looking a strong amount of uncomfortable. “And it fuckin stinks in here.” She grumbled.

Lexa, the de facto leader of their Division, nodded with a heavy sigh.

* * *

 

“So, Lexa- may I call you Lexa?”

The young woman tried not to grit her teeth. It was an unattractive habit, she knew, clamping down so strongly on the jaw. She knew too, that it caused a double flexing tendon to tighten, and the effect was visible. But it kept her from the scathing remarks she knew her younger self to be capable of, and that meant it kept her out of trouble.

“I would prefer something not so familiar,” the woman ground out, trying for all the world to simply relax.

The psychiatrist across from her observed her with a patient look of understanding schooling her features. She too was aware of certain things about herself. More specifically, she knew that no one who sat across from her was sitting there willingly.

“I don’t see why not,” the woman responded smoothly. “The topics we’re about to discuss are pretty familiar territory, don’t you think?” The woman sitting rigidly in her chair didn’t reply.

“How about Lexa?” She asked finally. “Would that satisfy you?”

A jerked nod of the head, and the psychiatrist smiled.

“Then please, would you call me Lorelei?”

Lexa nodded once more, albeit more gracefully than before.

“Very well then, Lorelei.”

The psychiatrist once more smiled gently. Lexa had yet to determine whether she would prefer the woman smile more or less. It was probably just that Lexa wanted to leave.

“So, let us address why you’re here, shall we?”

Again, the impulse to grit her teeth almost took her. If only the woman would quit phrasing everything as a question! This whole ordeal was uncomfortable for Lexa, and she knew that it was about to get a lot worse.

Instead, Lexa nodded.

Lorelei smiled, seeing that talking to the woman would be like pulling secrets from a grave. Difficult, but not impossible. She flipped opened a light folder from the side table next to her seat.

“In your file, it states that your most recent psycho pass has gone up an average of 10 point from last assessment. That’s 30 more points than the one before that. 40, if one wished to look at your MWPSB entrance assessment.”

She closed the folder and fixed the solidified woman with an inquiring stare.

“As it stands right now, your Crime Coefficient is at an all time high, Lexa. An 89.”

The fisted hands on her knees tightened slightly at the reminder.

“We’re here to discuss why that is, and what we can do about getting it under control.”

Lexa gave in.

A bicuspid met a molar and her tongue was held fast. She knew why her psycho pass was clouding. And so did this Lorelei.

Long moments passed where the two women simply stared at each other. The Doctor was the first to give in. Her hands untangled from their elegant and pretentious knot, her elbows meeting her thighs as she stretched forward seriously.

“Look, Lexa.” The Doctor met her eyes. “I am honestly trying to help you. My job is to make sure that you remain healthy. I can show you cases of my success, even. Indra Porter is well on her way to becoming fully rehabilitated. So please, just talk to me. I want to help, and I have faith that I can.”

Lexa observed the woman for more than a few heartbeats.

Her jaw unglued after several long seconds had ticked by.

“My psycho pass,” she annunciated clearly, laconically. “Has been clouding because I have been sleeping with an Enforcer.”

Lorelei nodded, seeming pleased.

“And how often do you engage in this?”

Lexa fought to keep her voice level, but her teeth seemed to want to stay clenched. Her tongue was kept in check, but her mind cast about acerbically.

_As often as our self-control snaps._

“I don’t know, exactly.”

“Hm. A rough estimate?”

_Twice a week._

“Probably twice a month.”

“ I see. Which Enforcer, may I ask?”

_Like you don’t know._

“Clarke Griffin.”

“And what is Clarke’s psycho pass?”

_How arrogantly this woman addresses Clarke._

“299.8.”

The brunette eyebrows rose.

“You seem so sure.”

“Griffin’s psycho pass has been 299.8 every day for 12 years.”

The Doctor cocked her head. Lexa expected the woman to ask how she knew such a thing, when she actually asked an entirely different question.

“You address your lover as Griffin?”

Lexa did something worse than gritting her teeth, then. She blushed.

_No._

“Yes.” She bit out.

Lorelei merely remained still, watching as Lexa obviously lied.

“And she is not my lover.” The young woman validated.

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what is she then?”

Lexa looked to the side, her gaze strong instead of panicky.

“She is my subordinate.”

“Even when you have sex?”

Lexa shot the psychiatrist a glare; the older woman was obviously joking, and Lexa unbent enough to at least quit glaring at the Doctor.

“Really.” The Inspector chided darkly. “You sound just like her.”

Lorelei smiled.

“And you still maintain that you are not lovers?”

Lexa managed to re-level her glare at the Doctor.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“What does she mean to you?”

“I- Pardon?”

“Clarke.” The psychiatrist clarified. “What sort of worth does she hold in your life?”

Lexa had paused to think on it, but Lorelei continued the question.

“Say, for example, that Clarke had been shot through the heart three months ago, was it? That incident?” Lorelei watched the woman’s face carefully. “Would you mourn her, or would you have her body be taken away and file for a replacement the next day?”

Lexa was a professional- a trained Inspector. On a daily basis, she saw the grisliest gore and the most gruesomely gratuitous brutality that human beings could inflict on others. Her mind must always remain tundra; a barren and icy thing. Her mind, where the frigid and freakish blew in, and left just as quickly.

So it was not that she would be fooled by the Doctor’s trick to break that exterior just so the woman could worm her way into her deepest thoughts. For the most dreaded part of her knew: even in that windy and icy taiga, Clarke was amongst the few things that held the refuge of the deep buried warmth in her heart. Clarke was part of the reason her inner fire ran so hot.

The woman was mad, oh yes, there was no doubt that Clarke was of something unnatural. But she was also genius. Though most of the time, Clarke was quite passive. She reminded Lexa strongly of a languorous jungle cat. The woman played with an easy type of glee, simply because she found real joy in it.

But it was this familiarity, this cockle of her heart that held Clarke; who unknowingly, and accidentally, held her prisoner.

They both had noticed the trend early. They were, after all, incredible astute people. When their liaison started, they had enjoyed themselves almost as a normal couple would; doting on one another in small, simple ways, carrying on intelligent conversation whenever they could find the other, and because Lexa had chosen such a passionate woman, having sex in any place that had a locking door.

They carried on this way for six months.

Six months where their Division topped the reports for the MWPSB, such a good team Lexa and Clarke made, Handler and Hound. Six months where their only point of contention was where they would finally sleep that night; Clarke’s dormitory or Lexa’s? Six months where the Division relaxed, so much better were their lives now that Clarke and Lexa had found hobbies – each other. Six months, where neither of them could help falling in love.

But at the stroke of seven months, Lexa had an Inspector’s Psycho Pass Assessment. And the results shocked her.

“Lexa,” her girlfriend had muttered worriedly, her perfect forehead wrinkling in distress at the assessment sheet in her hands. “Lexa, what do we do?” Her blue eyes plead logic.

The tall woman’s legs were stretched before her on Clarke’s bed. Her back rested propped against the cushions and headboard. Her usually bound hair was wild and flowed freely where it pleased. She was also completely naked.

Beautiful.

Still, the beautiful head shook.

“I don’t know, Clarke.” She sighed heavily. Her eyes slid to her standing girlfriend, also naked. In a strange role reversal, the woman had tied her hair up and out of her face.

Clarke glided back to the bed, her hand passing to Lexa a glass of water. Unable to resist, she stole a kiss for her efforts and told the Inspector it was a reward for a job well done with her earlier ‘thirsty work’.

Lexa placed the glass on the table next to her and snatched the woman back down to the bed, growling softly and growing hard. Clarke laughed like a girl, allowing Lexa to playfully nip at her throat.

The woman, now sitting in a chair, remembering the situation at hand, found no reason to smile or play anymore. ‘What do we do?’ Clarke had asked her. What they did was separate. They were both aware that it could never be a game of blame – whether Clarke was infecting Lexa’s hue, or if Lexa’s hue was darkening simply by falling more deeply in love with Clarke.

So they removed each other from the equation.

And it had worked – for the most part.

At least the steep decline of Lexa’s psycho pass had gentled out into a mere decline. But still, there was no stopping the force of Clarke’s love for her, and the hurricane of emotions Lexa reciprocated. And the self-inflicted abstinence took its toll on both of them.

Lexa’s hue was still growing cloudier each day. And Clarke was employing any technique she had encountered to level her teetering Crime Coefficient.

300.

300 was the Crime Coefficient for Lethal Elimination, and the number would render Clarke unable to work as an Enforcer. The Sybil System would have her thrown back into therapy, or shot on sight.

So they decided to forge a purely carnal relationship. Only enough to take the edge off, they said, to relieve the pressure they both surely felt.

Who knew what was worse? To go with or without each other?

“-xa?”

“Lexa?”

The seated woman focused on the psychiatrist.

“Yes?”

“I was just making sure you were still with me.” The woman chuckled. “You’ve been deliberating for a little while.”

“My apologies, Lorelei.” Lexa answered her. “I didn’t realize.”

“Quite alright, Lexa.” The doctor placated. “We were discussing Clarke, yes?”

Lexa nodded stiffly.

“So you say you aren’t lovers, and you didn’t comment on if she meant something to you, so I wonder now, how _do_ you feel about her, Lexa?” Lorelei leveled her with a hard look.

“What do you feel when you see her, for instance?”

_Amazed. I am amazed when I see her. I burn inside, like if I don’t reach for her hand, I’ll combust. I feel lust. I feel admiration. I feel passion._

“Nothing.” Lexa shorted out. The words seemed to dry her throat. She cleared it. “I feel nothing when I see her.”

Lorelei tilted her head.

“Nothing?” She repeated.

Lexa’s fist tightened once more.

“Lust, perhaps.” She gritted, green eyes narrowed. “If the mood strikes me.”

Lorelei nodded.

“I would imagine so.” She nodded once more. “Do you know what Clarke feels when she looks at you?”

Lexa almost lost her breath at the question.

_Love. A deep, smoldering, love. A love with six sets of teeth, but arms of softest tenderness._

“I don’t care.” She replied instead, the nonchalance burning her inside out. “I would wager she resents me, for using her body.” The eyes squared into the psychiatrist’s. “Griffin is a latent criminal. A mad one. A fine Hound, but mad all the same. Why should I care what she thinks of me?”

The hard gaze almost made Lorelei falter. That was more than she hoped to get out of Lexa Woods all session. Instead of being intimidated, she smiled.

“Very good, Lexa. I think we’ll make excellent progress. It seems my job will be a little easier, after all.”

Lexa returned her gaze hesitantly.

“At this rate,” Lorelei tempered out, “Your psycho pass will deteriorate to that of a latent criminal, and you will be forced to retire as an Inspector, and become an Enforcer. You know that is the road you are headed.” Her eyes glanced at her watch. “I think this is a good stopping point for today, don’t you?”

Lexa nodded sharply, already risen from the chair. The last comments from Lorelei had sent her mind into a frenzy. Still, she had much more important things to do.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Lexa.” Lorelei smiled politely. “Clarke, too.”

Lexa paused in gathering her coat.

“You’re going to see Clarke?” she asked delicately.

Too late, she realized her error. Thankfully, Lorelei didn’t comment on her use of Clarke’s name. Instead, she merely nodded cheerfully.

“Of course. As she is the direct link to the problem, I see it only fitting.” Another watch check. “In fact, she should have arrived quite some time ago.

Lexa tried not to bite her lips. Her green eyes cast to the large two-way mirror on one side of the otherwise homey room. One thing about being an Inspector, while you were freer than latent criminals, surely, your business was everyone’s, especially Sibyl’s.

_Shit._

Lexa nodded and shrugged on her coat. Crossing to the door, she yanked it open and shut it behind her to come face to face with the Enforcer she had taken to bed one long week ago.

The blue eyes were wet. Lexa faltered.

“Clar-“

“ _Division 1, please report to the briefing bay. Division 1 to the briefing bay.”_

The overhead speaker system of the building sounded off, meaning they had a case to get to. Clarke turned immediately and strode away. Lorelei chose that moment to open the door and look for her next appointment. Her eyebrow rose slightly at the retreating figure that met her.

“Case.” Lexa grunted, and left the doctor. Her strides were one to every two Clarke took, and it was only 10 meters until she had caught up to the woman.

“Clarke-“ she began again. Apology and torment in every syllable.

“Do not.” The smaller Enforcer annunciated.

Lexa frowned.

“Octavia, do you copy?”

The wrist she had tapped opened a communication link with the Inspector. She ignored Clarke’s dark look.

“Copy, Lexa. What’s going on?”

“Are you alright tonight with Anya, Alie and Indra?” She slid emerald eyes to irate ceruleans. “The shrink wants Clarke and I.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in the reply.

“Absolutely, Lexa. It looks pretty routine. I could comfortably go even with only Anya and Alie.”

“Roger that.” Lexa replied. “Let me know if there are any complications.”

“Will do.”

As Lexa ended the link, she took Clarke by the wrist and led her with quick and familiar steps. She silently thanked Octavia on the way; the younger woman had proved herself a fine Inspector, tougher and more just than she looked.

She tightened her grip on the thin wrist in her grasp, remembering the conversation that ensued three months ago.

* * *

 

Octavia had found her with the other Enforcers in their Division’s briefing bay; an office of sorts, where each member of the team had their own desk and computer for researching, reporting or any other work-related endeavor they had. Everyone had been in attendance.

Everyone except Clarke, that is.

“Lexa.” The young woman had started, standing in the center aisle. Lexa looked up from her desk to turn her attention to the new Inspector, knowing what was coming.

It seemed everyone else did too, for Anya shut her computer off and swiveled her seat around to face them. Her face was characteristically smug, and if Lexa could have spared the attention, she would have shot her a glare.

“Yes, Octavia?”

The muddy brown eyes were determined.

“What just happened?”

_A simple question that asks for a not-so simple answer._

The taller woman hesitated, her hands finding each other and joining on top of her desk. Her jaw flexed.

“It is,” she hesitated. “Complicated.”

“It’s not, really,” Alie had sat backwards in her chair, legs straddling the back.

“Alie,” Lexa calmly begged the woman. At least it wasn’t Anya.

The older woman waved her off, and fixed her eyes on Octavia intently.

“There are some things in this world, young lady, that are beyond human control. To name a few of the most important; the weather, the lotto, and who you fall in love with.”

Octavia inhaled sharply.

Alie pushed on.

“Don’t think it’s either of their faults, Inspector. It makes only one difference you see,” Alie grimaced. “It makes each other their biggest weakness.”

Anya chose that moment to intercede.

“They’re a terrible force together,” she added languidly. “Made one guy literally piss himself in fright.” The unusually sharp canines flashed. “And I’ll hold on to that forever.”

She leveled with Octavia.

“But Clarke’s got a madness that she can’t shake. Us latent criminals all’ve got some touch of it, but Clarke’s always been right on the edge. Lexa over here,” she gesticulated to the tense figure, “As you probably figured out, is the only thing on God’s earth that can either push her off that edge, or keep her anchored.”

Alie nodded.

“They’ve got a bit of a history, these two,” she started. And was once again cut off by Anya.

“Which we won’t rehash.” She sharped. “Here are the highlights,” She ticked off her slim fingers.

“They dated for a blessed while. Lexa’s psycho pass couldn’t handle it. They broke up to save it. Now, they’re in a weird lovers’ limbo where nothing is fair and everything sucks, and have been here for about three years.” The uncouth blonde sucked air through her teeth. “Oh yeah, and if an Inspector becomes a latent criminal, they get demoted to Enforcer.” She grinned evilly.

“Right, Alie?”

The older Enforcer managed a laugh.

“Too right, Anya.” She glanced back at Octavia. “So, are you up to speed?”

The woman, oddly enough, Lexa noted, looked slightly underwhelmed. Her brow was furrowed, but she wasn’t gasping at every revealed bit of information or throwing Lexa accusatory glances.

“So, Clarke,” Octavia stated slowly. She looked to Lexa, who had yet to react to the explanations. “Is your…

“Subordinate.” Lexa replied dryly.

Indra shot her a pitying look.

“Lexa,” Octavia implored.

The Inspector had unbent at that point, pride damaged beyond recovery, her business well and truly aired.

“Please, just,” She sighed. “I’m sorry your first assignment with this Division has gone this way.”

Octavia didn’t respond, and Lexa hasn’t expected her to. The tall woman drew herself up from the desk and felt as if she were almost literally facing the music.

“Clarke, technically speaking, is my ex-girlfriend and current lover.” Hand still resting on the desk, Lexa stilled and strained. “But she is so much more to me. I will neither apologize or make excuses for that.”

She drew to her full height.

“I hope you don’t think that this reflects on me or her as professionals. I know that the Enforcers in this room would vouch for us on at least that.”

“We would,” Indra’s low voice entered the conversation.

Lexa nodded her head gratefully. One could tell the action wasn’t done very often. She had said her peace, and awaited her new colleague’s verdict.

Octavia took a long moment to digest the information.

“I do not doubt you or Clarke’s abilities.” She said slowly. Her olive brown eyes met Lexa’s.

“From what I saw, you both are incredibly skilled,” she smiled lightly. “I am honored to work with you.” Here, she nodded lightly. “And I apologize for paralyzing Clarke.”

Lexa cracked a shadow of a smile.

“Well I’m fuckin not,” Anya reasoned, sensing the moment official un-kinked. “You hadn’t shot her, and they’d have kept at it.”

Lexa turned away and blushed furiously, while the Inspector and three present Enforcers laughed.

* * *

 

The door to Clarke’s apartment shut with a bang and the soft screech of a lock. They had practically run back to the dormitory, Lexa’s long legs leading the way. Clarke had said nothing the entire way, something she recognized as odd, even to herself.

She stood in the center of her apartment. It was an MWPSB facility, but they were allowed a large degree of freedom to live as they pleased. Clarke had chosen to decorate the room in a way that whispered ideas of a house turned library. It was spacious, shelves lined with books and the like. The only thing out of the ordinary was an unfinished far corner of the room where a weighted punching bag was rung up. A clean kitchenette, and a sizeable bed made the apartment seem very open.

Lexa turned slowly to face the mistress of the space. Though Clarke heard the turn of feet, she felt no inclination to speak. Flashes of irritation at being called off a case and man handled through the building were scant compared to the hurt she felt at what she had overheard.

The taller woman knew that Clarke would speak when she felt ready. The Enforcer was a woman of passion, and she was expertly versed in conveying her feelings in one of two ways. Lexa didn’t need to wait long.

Clarke slowly walked to the wing of her apartment designated as her bedroom. Her voice was calmer than Lexa had expected.

“Why,” She asked, her tone dulcet and curious.

Lexa took steps in her direction.

“Clarke, because if people outside our Division knew, they would transfer us into separate Divisions. You know this.” The tall woman reached the honey-haired latent criminal, a confused frown creasing her eyebrows.

Before Lexa could reach her, though, Clarke turned away and folded her arms over herself.

“No,” she said, “Why are we doing this to ourselves if your health is inevitable?”

Lexa didn’t need to see the woman’s face to realize her posture had stiffened, and knew a self-suffering look of blame was twisting across her pretty features.

_Ah._

The Inspector felt herself understand the reason behind Clarke’s distress. She wasn’t hurt over Lexa’s uncooperative answers to Lorelei. She was worried because Lexa’s psycho pass was still declining.

“Why am I allowing myself to be here, when even when I make you happy, I might be hurting you?”

Clarke’s pained whisper roused the taller woman.

Lexa closed the distance, and circled her arms around Clarke’s petite waist, her hands resting on the woman’s shapely hipbones. She felt Clarke belatedly stiffen, probably trying to fight her natural reaction to relax in the embrace. A moment passed, and the Enforcer terrifically lost the fight.

Allowing herself to be pulled backwards into the strong body of her lover, Clarke let her deepest worries air. The usually so soothing voice was gilded in trepidation.

“I need you to be happy, Lexa. I wonder sometimes if you wouldn’t be safest if I were away from you.” Lexa’s spine felt like an ice rod had been hammered down her spine, and the captured woman was quick to address it.

“No, Lex, listen to me,” blonde locks fanned over a suit-covered shoulder as Clarke leaned her head back onto Lexa’s shoulder, trying to keep the taller woman still with minimal effort. “I mean it. I could live, knowing that you are happy and healthy, doing what you love. You could carry on, as you have always done, babe. I know that you would need to adjust, but you would stay with Division 1. With the people you know and trust; with Octavia, Alie, Indra, Anya-“

“ _Fuck_ Anya!”

Lexa had backpedaled away from Clarke like the woman had burnt her. And the dark-haired woman felt the analogy was appropriate. Her chest felt like it was suffocating with the words Clarke had so calmly spoken. Her heart was gasping for life, burning and aching.

Clarke spun to watch the angry hurt play across the woman’s devastatingly beautiful face, and realized where she had erred.

Her deliberations had been sensible, logical even. But love was not sensible, nor was it logical. And she had failed to take into account just how much Lexa loved her, in all reality.

“How could you-,” Lexa sputtered, desperately trying to be angry. “Clarke!” The only thing she was really angry about was how failed the attempt was, more hurt than anything clear in her voice.

“Healthy and happy’, Clarke? ‘Would need to adjust’?” Her voice was derisive, barely a decibel away from losing control. “You would think it’s so simple!? To just, what? Forget you?”

Clarke merely looked deeply apologetic, regret at her words clear. Lexa recognized the expression, and allowed her hurt to ebbed away and reveal the disbelief that currently ruled.

“Healthy and happy’? Clarke, there _is_ no happy without you here.” Her green eyes moved forward and locked with the lovely blue of her lovers’. “I am upset with you. Upset because I never considered you leaving an option. I refuse to consider it.”

The taller woman didn’t break eye contact; even as Clarke brought her slim hands up to gently cradle the Inspector’s jaw tenderly.

“There is no ‘going back’. Not now. We’re a team, Clarke, you and I.” The viridian irises seemed to burn, and Clarke felt a fire inside of herself ignite at the look in those eyes. “I can’t go back, and I don’t want to. Even if it means following you to the depths of hell, darling.” She swallowed shallowly, “I love you.”

Clarke kissed her.

It was the kind of kiss that was felt in the heart, and burned molten lava of affection and devotion from top to toe.

Lexa closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Clarke. She readjusted the kiss for more depth and lightly moaned at the feeling of Clarke’s fingers loosening her hair.

The mahogany locks dropped and fanned out over her back, and the slender fingers wasted no time in helping Lexa shed her suit jacket, and making quick work of the many buttons of her blouse. Next, she helped herself to the buckle at Lexa’s trousers, Clarke’s mouth quirking as her hand brushed the tented front, and let them fall. The perfectly lean and muscular body was bared to her in nothing but a tasteful set of deep violet boyshorts and balconette-cup bra. Her mouth watered at the sizable length stiffening to one side of Lexa’s underwear.

Clarke did this all while walking backwards, Lexa leading the passionate woman to the bed, her mouth kissing and licking the slim, perfumed neck. The Enforcer’s form-flattering dress required must less attention. At the pull of a zipper, Clarke was stripped down to her black underwear and stockings.

Lexa, once more locking lips with the full, yielding lips under her, gently pushed Clarke back onto the bed. Clarke answered with the loveliest pull for Lexa to follow her down.

Small ‘I love you’s were waxed into each caress, and terms of endearment in every sigh. Soon, the women were stripped of every article of clothing, all except for Clarke’s stockings.

“Ever the fetishist, my love?” Clarke teased gently, Lexa’s rusked chuckle ghosting over her breast. The pair rolled, Clarke on top. Slim fingers toyed with the soft breasts beneath her, delighting in the hardened nipples that rubbed her palms. Lexa’s warm and roaming hands twitched in their exploration of Clarke’s smooth body. The woman smiled against the mouth under her.

“You know, it’s been a full week, Lex.” Her cerulean eyes played Cupid’s demon. Lexa kissed and nipped at the smiling lips.

“Mm.” She grinned gamely, eyes sparkling the way Clarke loved. “Trust me, I’m aware.” With that, she rolled them back over, and settled between Clarke’s legs. One leg was taken firmly in Lexa’s strong hand.

Without prompting, Clarke wrapped it around the woman’s slim waist, expecting and hoping to be entered quickly. Their breathing came hot between them, Clarke’s smile gone. Lexa sat up, her desire clear and wet as precum slipped over her swollen head, a shining rivulet of need the Inspector refused to entertain. But her hand slid down the panting Enforcer’s leg, grasping Clarke’s delicate and slender ankle.

Clarke smiled in pure lust.

The desperate and focused Inspector pulled the woman’s leg up, up, up. Clarke could stretch forever, her flexibility just one more thing that turned Lexa on about her lover. Now that Clarke was practically doing a split in the air, Lexa took a moment to admire the glistening sex bloomed before her.

Her mouth watered.

Clarke growled, and Lexa resumed adjusting herself. Positioning her dick over Clarke’s sex, she dropped and angled herself to where they would be able to pleasure each other through pure, carnal friction. Her dick was slick almost immediately as she ran it through Clarke’s folds, and the blonde whined when Lexa ground into her clit.

The two women rocked and moaned against the other, gasping and grasping in almost near-perfect synchrony. Lexa felt her abdominals burn, with her dick burning five times as hot and pleasant. Sweat accumulated a fine sheen over the both of them, and Lexa bit her lip to distract herself from the pleasure. It only took minutes of the frantic passion before Lexa gave a low-pitched grunt of frustration, and Clarke hissed and shivered in delight.

As soon as her leg was lowered, Clarke rolled the two of them over and dropped to spread Lexa’s legs apart before the woman could realize what was happening. She took her deeply in her throat and worked the woman from the bottom up. Just as quickly, the slim thighs were straining against the iron grip on her spread knees, high keening noises escaping Lexa as she knotted Clarke’s golden hair and threw her head against the pillows with a strangled growl.

A rivulet of sweat ran between her breasts, and Clarke got to watch as the droplets ran down that flat stomach as Lexa moved to bodily drag the smaller woman up the bed and desperately lock lips; tongues twisting and twining. Clarke smiled at the moan Lexa gifted her with, clearly enjoying the taste of herself and Clarke on Clarke’s own tongue.

Slowly, she rolled them both over in bed, and Clarke nearly groaned in relief at her anticipation of the main course. Then, Clarke gifted the Inspector a deep, throaty whine as Lexa wasted no time in reaching between Clarke’s legs and slipping two fingers inside the woman.

Lexa worked her gently but firmly, clearly wanted Clarke to orgasm soon. She shifted the angle of her fingers to stroke every wall of Clarke’s vagina, a sort of dipping and pulling motion that made Clarke see starts every time. The curvaceous woman delivered on demand. But Lexa seemed to have no intention of slowing.

After Clarke’s second orgasm, Lexa pulled her fingers away and positioned her cock at Clarke’s ready entrance. The Enforcer moaned as Lexa pushed inside, bottoming out quickly.

Lexa rested on one hand, the other moving to her mouth to suck Clarke from her fingers. The panting woman underneath felt like she was falling apart yet being stitched together all at once. Clarke clawed at Lexa like some kind of animal, whimpering and gasping, but only to keep herself anchored to her entire world. Her body responded to the incredible penetrations, and her coiled muscles snapped and flexed as she screamed.

Clarke didn’t allow herself to catch her breath. Without removing Lexa’s length from inside her, Lexa found herself flat on her back, with Clarke riding her dick. She smiled in glazed awe, and watched in fascination as the chorded muscles in Clarke’s legs and abdomen flexed with every thrust of her hips.

Lexa could have cum just from watching her.

Instead, she tested rocking up and inside the woman. Her dick slipped inside in a sucking, hot sensation straight out of a dream, and Clarke’s whimper bit off into a full scream at the filling, welcome motion.

Hands on Clarke’s hips, Lexa felt her balls tight against her, and her eyes found Clarke’s to see her lover already watching her with dark, blown pupils. Lexa didn’t look away, instead leaning up and forward to lick at a straining nipple, and Clarke hummed tightly as her pussy contracted around Lexa.

“Lex-“ she called, and the brunette nodded, pushing Clarke down roughly onto her cock, once, twice, three times. When Lexa finally came, it was deep inside Clarke, the blonde’s head thrown back as ecstasy raced from her spine to her cunt.

She fell forward onto the bed on top of Lexa when she finally calmed. Chuckling, and deeply satisfied, Lexa gathered the compliant woman to her, and Clarke dusted loving kisses to the beautifully pronounced collarbones as Lexa shifted to pull out of her gently.

The two women simply breathed calmly together, letting their passionate love clear the miscommunications between them. Lexa stroked the honey hair lazily.

Some time later, Lexa turned her head to kiss the crown of Clarke’s head and spoke, her voice laced with relaxed love.

“I think it’s time to accept that some day, sooner or later, my psycho pass will cloud.” She kissed the blonde hair again. “My Crime Coefficient will go up, and I will be a latent criminal. An Enforcer. It’s inevitable, Clarke.”

The woman only listened to that strong, sure heart underneath her. It never faltered, and that was more than enough.

“Just as you are inevitable,” she finally murmured.

Lexa hummed an amused tone.

“It will work out,” she mused. “We’ll both be housed here, and see one another around the buildings. Even if we don’t work together.”

Clarke all of a sudden propped herself up on an elbow, a hand splayed on Lexa’s ribs.

“Wait, Lexa. Do you remember what Lorelei said?” Her eyes glimmered excitedly.

Lexa frowned lightly.

“I hardly remember much of what she said other than that she was asking far too many questions about our sex life.”

Clarke laughed and winked.

“You can hardly blame her for being interested, hm, baby?”

Lexa scoffed.

“What did she say?”

Clarke refocused, her brilliant mind flying.

“Didn’t I heard that she had been seeing Indra for a long time? And didn’t she mention that our handsome Hound was on her way to full rehabilitation?”

Lexa’s brow furrowed, her focus completely on what Clarke was implying. She cast eyes full of admiration and affection at the naked woman pressed against her.

“I believe so.” Her smile was real.

Clarke settled back down, full breasts pressing to Lexa’s in a comfortable position to converse.

“It should be no problem at all to request she attend to her appointments and participate in therapy, right?”

Lexa grinned again briefly, and then focused. Her head started to spin in categorical squares as to how to accomplish the task of setting up any and all areas of concern. She felt a soft finger poke her between the furrowed brows. Surprised, she glanced at a smiling Clarke.

“Don’t leave me all alone, babe.” She caressed the pale face. “Come back?”

Lexa softened and smiled wholly. It was so easy for her to slip into Detective mode. That mask and bearing fit her so comfortably. But Clarke – Clarke was the most comfortable. Nothing was quite as easy as being with Clarke.

She caught the hand on her face between her own and propped to face the woman next to her. Her viridian eyes were bright but serious, despite Clarke’s request to relax.

“Clarke.” She husked out. Her lips kissed the knuckles of the slim hand. Clarke looked amused at the affectionate caress, but smiled despite her lover’s changing moods.

“Yes, Lexa?”

“Before my psycho pass deteriorates,” Lexa began seriously. Clarke was still smiling. Lexa could be so dramatic. “Marry me?”

The smile disappeared.

“L-Lexa…” A stutter was even more rare than the shocked expression on the composed woman’s beautiful visage.

It seemed like Lexa had stolen her smile, for she now wore one of her own.

“You will, won’t you?”

“I-Lex,” the shock was wearing off, but Clarke was still trying to regain equilibrium. Lexa Woods was not an impulsive character. She did not ‘do’ spontaneity. Clarke knew her well enough that for the words to have left the woman’s mouth, Lexa must have thought about the topic for a very long time. And the forethought that she knew went into the words took Clarke’s breath away.

“I’m a latent criminal, Lex.” The blue eyes threatened to tear up. The gentle rejection was clear in her voice. “It’s illegal for me to get married.”

But Lexa never lost the small twist of her lips.

Instead, she rolled away from Clarke, and exited the bed. Then, she bodily lifted half of the mattress from the box springs, and then let it fall once more. When Clarke saw what Lexa now held, her throat constricted.

_Please, tell me what I want to hear. Please, baby._

“I found this by-law in the Inspector’s Rights Amendment from before Sybil was instated. The system didn’t rewrite all of the laws, and the Rights agreements are written as such to where to change or undo them, each has to be addressed individually.” Lexa’s voice was a gentle cadence of self-assured soothe. She flipped several pages into a thick, old-fashioned printed packet of long and garbled script. Her low and sure voice was the most beautiful thing Clarke had ever heard. She cleared her throat.

“something, something, shall not infringe upon a Detective’s freedom to contract a spouse, so long as the Detective in question carries no prior record of their own.”

She lowered the paper, looking calmly triumphant.

“Clarke, I have never failed a hue check. Sybil has to uphold the by-law, because we’re currently on the off year for law revision.” Her hand once more sought Clarke’s, who was staring at her with awe, disbelief, and so much love.

Lexa smiled slightly.

“If we are damned, my Princess, I’d like us to be damned together.” Her free hand flipped the lid to a black velvet box, and Clarke was nodding before Lexa could even ask the question.

The woman chuckled.

“Clarke Griffin, the mad Hound that you are,” she smiled. “I love you.” Her voice rusked. “And some how you love me. Will you let me stay by your side?”

Clarke’s nods became frantic, her smile threatening to split her face, and she finally gasped out a refined “yes!” Lexa smiled, for once the calm and content one. She smoothly slid a platinum band on the ring finger of Clarke’s left hand. The beautiful, tapered, metal was adorned with an enormous emerald-cut diamond. It was priceless. And perfect.

And Clarke could not stop crying.

Tears of beautiful joy. She had been a latent criminal all her life, and this had always been an impossibility for her. Tears of a soul-searing and fog-lifting suddenness that she felt she would murder the fool who sought to wake her from this dream. But it was not a dream.

For how could she possibly dream of the gentle murmurings of love and reassurance from the rich lips of her most beloved person? How could she ever have known that before this moment, she never knew true happiness?

How would she realize what it meant to truly love and be loved in return?

“I love you, Clarke. I love you more than I can say.”

* * *

 

“Good morning, Lexa- Oh, and Clarke!” Octavia greeted the women who had just stridden into the briefing bay lightly. The young Inspector was currently writing a report and glanced to the sliding entrance.

Lexa nodded politely. Octavia didn’t take offense, since it wasn’t meant offensively. Lexa just wasn’t the type to chirp back a returning good morning.

Clarke, however, waved with a leisurely hand and delivered a soft wink and curling smile.

“What a good morning it is, Octavia.”

Clarke was dressed, as always, to professional perfection. Her deep blue silk blouse tucked into a tight black pencil skirt with matching black high heels. She clutched a purse and a folded newspaper, her beautiful face seemingly calmer and clearer than yesterday.

 _Well Clarke seems playful today._ Octavia thought with a chuckle.

The tall Inspector continued her walk to her desk, coffee cup in hand. She nodded at Indra’s welcoming nod, and sat at her desk. Directly facing Anya’s profile, who was tapping away at a gaming device of some kind, feet propped on her desk. Clarke had settled into her own workspace on Anya’s other side.

Lexa pointedly glared at the dishwater blonde, angling her eyes to the game in her hands.

“The least you could do is wait until I’m even a little distracted to do that.” She dryly reprimanded, a distinct lack of command behind the words as she searched her work as to where to begin.

Anya’s bright eyes met her easily, her sharp expression just now taking in the newly arrived persons to her immediate left and right. The soft, nonchalant comment more startling to her than the sudden appearance of the pair. She observed the arrivals closely and quickly.

“Well good morning to you too,” she aired caustically. “Woods,” she dipped her head at Lexa, and swiveled to deliver the same motion to Clarke. “Woods.” And returned to her game.

Lexa froze.

“Hm.” Clarke hummed, clearly deeply pleased. “Good morning, Anya-darling. Anya-darling was a pet name Clarke only used when she was in a particular giddy mood, and Anya recognized her thanks only vaguely.

Apparently, Alie had entered just in time to hear Anya’s remark. She guffawed loudly, startling the diligently working Octavia and Indra.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” She grinned. “Finally made an honest woman of Clarke, eh, Inspector?”

Lexa merely massaged a temple while Clarke beamed, and held out a slim and elegant hand. The smooth skin was uninterrupted from tip to wrist, save for the nail-sized diamond ring sitting innocently on her finger.

“Congratulations,” Indra said, a small grin on her handsome face.

“You got married?” Octavia asked wondrously, her eyes sparkling.

“Only engaged, Octavia. For now,”

“Congratulations!” She crowed, turning to Lexa as well.

“Thank you,” the woman accepted. “Turning to other matters, how did the case go last night?”

At this, Octavia calmed and focused. And just like that, the mood shifted, and the entirety of Division 1 went back to the normal level of professionalism they employed.

“About that,” Octavia frowned lightly. “A robbery on the south east side. It was a one-man job at a warehouse near the river. Everything went well, and nothing was stolen. But the criminal, unfortunately, was destroyed.”

“I see,” Lexa said, eyes rapidly scanning the filed report on her computer screen.

“By his own volition?” Clarke asked with concern, also reading. Lexa looked up in surprise.

Octavia nodded, and pulled up a holographic image of a small, obsidian prism; the triangular ends tapering off to form a closed, shard-like object. The measurements indicated it was barely smaller than a toothpick in length, and a pencil in circumference.

“This was picked up by the crime scene drones.” She added. Then, her ears started to scarlet uncharacteristically. “It was delivered to the, uh,”

“Crime lab,” Anya smirked.

“Oh,” Clarke stated in comprehension. “You met our Chief Analyst, did you not?”

Octavia cleared her throat admirably.

“Reyes, yes.”

Lexa smothered a grin. Raven Reyes had been a long time employee at the MWPSB, and was a brilliant analyst, as well as a certified physician. She was also an incredibly friendly person, and was gifted with a generous endowment of sensuality.

Octavia cleared her throat again.

“Reyes analyzed the object and delivered her findings just this morning.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Alie was frowning concernedly. “It was covered in blood, but Raven discovered that is used to be a sub dermal implant. It’s got some sort of frequency receptor that triggers the thing to open, and release whatever’s inside it, into the body.”

“What was inside?” Lexa asked.

“A chemical Raven had never seen before,” Anya answered with a frown. “She thinks it’s some sort of homemade acid catalyst. The dude’s head deteriorated right off his fuckin shoulders. Raven said that probably meant it was either in his neck or spine.”

“Whatever it is,” Alie nodded, “It leaves one hell of a mess.”

“You say that nothing was stolen?” Indra asked.

Alie nodded, pulling up a holographic map of the area.

“Here’s where the robbery took place,” she pointed. “It’s a pretty isolated location, which is ideal for theft. But what isn’t ideal is the fact that nothing of value was in there. It’s an industrial shipping warehouse. Nothing but crate after crate of spare parts and pieces.”

“Hold up,” Anya interrupted. She was typing at her desk, and a message appeared in front of her screen. “Something about the whole thing didn’t feel right to me, so I drafted a rudimentary cross analysis report and sent it to a couple friends I have in other Divisions.”

She virtually clicked on the file she had received, and flicked it towards Alie’s map.

“Both my friends freaked. They had both encountered a string of seemingly disconnected events. The similarities in MO are obvious; one guy, isolated local, a robbery where nothing was taken, and most importantly – the dude offed himself after the MWPSB got there.”

Around 7 more red dots had been added to the map, zooming the image out.

The rest of the team studied it carefully.

“This implies that there is some larger force at work,” Indra deducted. “Where are they all coming from?”

Lexa nodded.

“Alright, Clarke and Alie, keep working this angle and report if you find anything interesting.” She stated orderly. “Anya, get with your friends. I want to know everything they know. Find the connections.” She looked away from the Enforcers. “Octavia, work with Raven and see if you can get any lead out of the device. This will be the back burner. In the mean time, we’ll be conducting regular case investigation and action as ordered.” The dark head swiveled lightly. “Indra, may I speak to you outside a moment?”

Clarke glanced up at the two. She eyes them as they both filed out.

“So, the big bad Inspector finally caved to your wiles, eh?” Anya smirked at her.

Clarke smiled demurely.

“Even rocks yield to water eventually.”

“Mm,” the woman murmured, her mind wandering. “So we really can get married?”

The blue eyes studied her.

“Only to an Inspector, it seems,” Then, she smiled. “Why? Been eyeing our pretty Octavia?”

Anya snorted.

“That woman would know how to handle me like a cocaine addict could hold a job.” She sighed dryly. “I was just curious,” she trailed off.

Clarke grinned prettily, Anya noted that she did it without all of the menace that she herself accidentally applied most of the time.

“Well, is _that_ particular rock still needing weathering?” Her eyes twinkled and played.

Anya rolled hers.

“She’s just so damn stubborn.” The woman grumbled. “She’ll come around though.” She shot Clarke a side smirk. “Hell, if holier-than-thou Lexa can cave, dirty-sex-in-the-closet Raven can too.”

Clarke laughed.

Behind them, Octavia’s ears and cheeks were brilliantly flushed.

* * *

 

It was another two months until Division 1 encountered another concerning case. During which, three more exploding heads had been encountered by Divisions 2 and 3, two Enforcers got together, and one couple were married.

Clarke and Lexa had been woken at 3:47 am by Octavia’s broadcast to Clarke, Lexa, and Indra. Apparently another warehouse was in the process of being robbed.

“Is it another Obsidian case?” Lexa asked quickly, letting Clarke fix her tie while she pulled her jacket on. Obsidian was the code name for the case concerning the strange obsidian-like devices that kept cropping up in the carnage that ensued around the same area.

“The location would indicate yes,” Octavia’s voice responded. “But the MO is all different. Sybil scanners are indicating an area hue check that’s reading that there is more than one suspect.”

Lexa grunted her understanding, waving for Clarke to hurry applying her lipstick, something that she knew was a hopeless request.

“There’s another thing,” Octavia told her urgently. Lexa paused, her wife’s heels in one hand. “They’ve got hostages.”

The Inspector cursed.

When the team of Lexa, Clarke, and Indra had arrived on scene, Divisions 2 and 3 had arrived to aid Division 1. The scene of the crime was an enormous rusting warehouse just next to the murky river. The chill of the early morning air pervaded every sense, and only put the large and bright holographic police tape at odds with the rest of the surroundings. Division 1 was under their own tent in front of the building, their only view of the heavy single door set off-center in the front.

The tall, dark haired Inspector stepped out of the paddy wagon; she immediately crossed to the shorter, slighter woman. Alie and Anya sent her nods.

“How many?” the woman asked lowly.

Octavia frowned, pulling up an area scan littered with dots.

“Thermal scans indicate somewhere between 10 to 20.” Her serious brown eyes met Lexa’s deep and clear emeralds. “Its very hard to read, as the hostages could be tied together or any number of things. The area stress level is also masking how many are innocent, and how many are actually targets for enforcement.”

Lexa wrinkled a brow.

“Have the suspects made any sort of contact?”

Octavia nodded, and handed Lexa a slip of paper that was bagged and labeled for trace evidence. She froze when she read the scrawled, child like handwriting. Wordlessly, she passed the note to her Enforcers.

“Oh,” Clarke murmured, her blue eyes widening. Indra frowned confusedly, looking much like Octavia and the other Enforcers.

“Where does this address lead to?” Indra asked.

“No where,” Octavia said slowly, her eyes looking from Clarke to Lexa. “We traced the satellite images, and even sent drones to the residence, and there’s nothing significant about it.”

“You’re cruel, Octavia,” Clarke cut in airily, her eyes turned to the looming warehouse. “After all, the house I lived in as a girl is significant to me, at least.”

Five concerned faces watched her as she turned back to them.

“It would seem that someone has taken an interest in me,” the graceful woman crooned gently.

“Your parent’s house, Clarke?” Alie asked cautiously.

The younger Enforcer nodded.

“And how public is that knowledge?” Octavia asked, “The address of an Enforcer’s parents’ home?”

“Not.” Anya snarled. “It’s not public information.”

Indra had been typing away at her personal screen, “And there haven’t been any breeches in the secure system in the MWPSB’s mainframe or auxiliary channels.”

“Are there cameras active in and outside the building?” Clarke asked suddenly.

“Er,” Octavia hesitated. “Yes, but we can’t get at the feed. This warehouse is off of Sybil’s grid, and the frequency is continuously changing. We’re having a hard time keeping up,”

“Excellent,” Clarke said. Without another word, she crossed two steps to the waiting Dominator cart, pulled a weapon free and turned to set off toward the warehouse.

She was three whole steps toward her goal when Lexa roused herself enough to run and grasp her arm, spinning her around angrily.

“Clarke!” She thundered. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Clarke merely cast a calm look over her wife.

“Only the best course of action for the hostages inside, once you start thinking clearly,” She replied evenly.

Lexa’s grip tightened around the muscled bicep, but she didn’t release the Enforcer.

“Absolutely not,” she managed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lexa,” Clarke kept her voice tightly controlled. “We have no visuals inside, no audio, no idea of what’s going on, really. If this is Obsidian getting desperate, we know they have no qualms with killing. If it isn’t, we still don’t know.”

She gently pried Lexa’s strong hand from her upper arm.

“The only hint we have is a message clearly directed at me.” She smiled slightly, the beautiful lips Lexa loved to worship pulling in a soft, sardonic smile. “With the other Divisions here, it should be no problem to have the building surrounded, and to place Enforcers on the roof. I would provide the audio and video once I’m inside.”

Clarke stepped closer to the taller Inspector. She could practically feel Lexa’s heart quickening as the brilliant detective realized she was right. If the Enforcer weren’t her lover, it would be exactly what Lexa would have done, and she knew it.

Her green eyes were pitch dark as they stared Clarke down. Clarke simply let the woman see whatever it is she wanted, taking her own time to admire the handsome angles of her wife’s face.

When Lexa was clearly not going to reply, Clarke smiled to her full, most genuine, and winked.

“How about a kiss for good luck, hm, Lex?” Her voice deepened as her tones curled around the playful words.

Instead of scoffing and sending her on her way like Clarke expected, the taller woman took half a step forward and pulled Clarke into her body the rest of the way. Clarke felt Lexa eclipse her with the kiss she received. It was all sorts of too hot and rough edges, with hints of bitter softness and compensating crushed velvet.

Clarke’s free hand came up to wrap around a strong wrist, pulling gently. The pair separated, and Clarke delivered a gentle kiss to the now-red lips.

“Don’t worry, babe.” She whispered. Another kiss. “I’ll be right back,” And she was gone, her slim retreating back the only thing Lexa could see.

Her hand curled into a white-knuckled fist.

“Damn it,” she whispered, her heart constricting painfully. She turned on her heel and crossed back to her team, reaching to wipe off the lipstick she knew Clarke had left. The three steps were all she needed to regain her composure.

“Everyone, collect your weapons,” she barked. “Alie, you will join Divisions 1 and 2 in covering every conceivable entrance and exit to that fucking building.” Her mind was whirling. “Once Clarke gets inside, we’ll know an exponential amount more. Anya, you, Octavia and I will get inside.” She grit her teeth. “I don’t care how.”

“And me, Inspector?” Indra asked quietly from her seat at a computer, somehow knowing the answer.

Lexa shot her a look; half frustrated, half pleading.

“I would like for you to stay out here, Indra,” she said lowly. “Your Crime Coefficent…” she trailed off, looking torn. “I’m sorry for being selfish, Indra.”

Indra pursed her lips. Anya disrupted the scene with a Dominator, pointing it directly between the shorter woman’s eyes. She didn’t flinch.

“Wow,” the blonde coolly crowed. “Someone has either found a highly effective yoga method, or are going to therapy sessions.” She cast a glance over Lexa and Alie, “Our handsome Enforcer here’s running a 101.7”

Alie cracked a huge grin.

Anya lowered her weapon and instead pointed it firmly at Lexa’s head. The Inspector merely held still, not aware herself of what Anya would see, now that the love of her life had walked into a lion’s den.

The taller woman lowered her weapon, her face grim.

“99.8” she whispered, grief in her eyes.

Lexa looked away.

“Indra,” she enunciated clearly, no hint of a tremor in her voice, “Monitor the audio and video, keep trying to get into their feed.”

The young Enforcer nodded, a strange emotion of relief playing with hindrance on her countenance. She refocused on her computer screen, her fingers flying.

“Besides all this… That was some kiss, eh, Inspector?”

“Shut up, Anya,” Lexa snapped.

* * *

 

Clarke walked swiftly up a dark corridor, the only available door open for her on the right, light coming from the inside. She took a staying breath. It had been hard to leave Lexa. But even if she were to die, at least her lover was safe.

She pushed through the door, weapon drawn and glowing. The shrieking creak of the door alerting whatever may have been inside of her entrance. The sight that greeted her was surprising.

Two rows of cots were arranged neatly, people lying inside, seemingly asleep. They were hooked up to hanging IV drips, all with a fresh cut on the side of their necks.

The room was large, with a large platform over one end observing the cots. The room was positively lined with men. If they hadn’t been wearing mismatching civilian styled clothing, their posture and facial expressions told Clarke they were soldiers.

They were the second party of three in the room. The first being the poor souls in the bed, and the third being the only one on the platform.

“Welcome, Clarke.” The figure called robustly. The voice was that of a man. “Please, come and join me. The view is just lovely.”

Clarke’s mind raced, but she took solace in the fact that Division 1 could see and hear everything she could. Lowering her Dominator, the graceful woman located the iron set of stairs leading to the platform. She ascended them agilely, her natural athleticism not allowing her to be clumsy, even as she felt the pressure of the moment.

Gaining level, she observed the man before her. He was roughly Lexa’s height, maybe an inch or two shorter. But unlike Lexa, this man was thin. Clarke’s wife was lean, muscular, and trim. The man before her was sinewy. Stick thin. Like he would crack if he bent the wrong way.

Dirty, light brown hair cut into one of those oddly fashionable styles so popular now. The right side level with his nose, with the short side still long enough to sway with his movements. His skin was an unhealthy color of white, and drawn taut over his bones.

But what Clarke found most unsettling about this man were his eyes. Grey-brown eyes. Steel brown. The brown of tumultuous skies and dying suns. The brown that lined the walls of a cell. The electric energy of flickering lights over rehabilitation floor tiles.

This man was mad, Clarke noted. Madder than she herself had ever had the misfortune to relapse to.

“Good morning,” the man greeted lightly. His voice, though possibly unused to functioning, was not unpleasant. His teeth were white.

“Well, whether the morning is good remains to be seen,” Clarke replied evenly. This answer seemed to excite the man. He gripped at himself and smiled widely.

“It’s so much more beautiful in person,” he breathed. “Your voice, I mean.” His eyes fluttered, then snapped open. “Not that you aren’t more beautiful in person.” He was nervous, as if he feared he had offended Clarke. “You are! You’re absolutely stunning. Gorgeous. God, if only you would take your clothes off…”

The brown eyes scanned Clarke, and it sent her stomach reeling.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” Clarke replied. Her voice was level, like she was discussing her menu choice for lunch. “May I ask your name?”

The taller man snapped out of his haze, and bowed at the waist.

“My name is Finn Collins.” He delivered a genuinely warm smile. “And I am in love with you, my dearest Clarke Griffin.” He straightened, that warm smile still in place, even as a look of shock twisted across Clarke’s face.

“Not to worry!” Her held his hands up. “I don’t expect you to know who I am. I was merely a street urchin from your neighborhood when you were a child. But I worked my way up, Clarke. For you! I became a drone technician for you, Clarke. For the Sybil system itself.” His grin was relaxed.

“I realize this is sudden,” he continued, looking for all the world like he had waited for this moment for years. “After all, I’ve been watching you all your life, Clarke, and you have had such a short time to get to know me.”

This Finn turned behind her, where a station of computers and various screens were set up. He pushed several buttons, and the scenes of various bodies littered the holographic space behind her.

He turned back to face Clarke.

“So I decided to try and court you from afar, my love.” He gestured to the images with a sweep. “Of the three people you’ve killed, Clarke, my favorite was the time from the Oldtown district. But here, I enhanced it a bit. A bit more sophisticated. But do you remember, Clarke?” His face was slight with pleased glee.

“Well,” Clarke said, ashen faced. Her voice was on the edge of a tremble. “How could I not?” Her mind slowly made the tragic connections, horror slipping into the creases of her consciousness.

“Of course,” Finn continued, that same uncaring yet too caring tone. “I still remember when I saw that crime scene, Clarke.” His mud eyes sparkled. “You shoved that brick of C4 right into his mouth. And the way you asked him those questions and he spoiled himself answering you,” He sighed. “Beautiful.”

Finn laughed, a harsh, grating sound that didn’t become him.

“His head nearly rolled off his shoulders he was nodding so hard,” Another fond smile. “But then, it really did roll off when you turned the trigger. You know, you’ve never been more beautiful than when you were bathed in his blood, Clarke. And you seemed so happy!”

“Well,” she said lightly, changing the subjecy, “It seems you are very familiar with me. If so, you’d know that I can’t fully accept your love. I’m already, and very recently, married.”

Finn’s smile dropped immediately, the first time it had done so. And Clarke was introduced to how the man most likely normally looked. Evil. His eyes were pyres of brilliant hate, and his mouth was twisted in disgust.

“Her,” he spat, his voice low. “You’re talking about _her_.” Finn twisted to press another button, and pictures of Lexa populated the air. Clarke’s heart thundered. Lexa buying groceries. Lexa exercising at the gym. Lexa driving on the freeway. Lexa at a jewelry store.

Lexa and Clarke. At the scene of cases. Walking the streets. Sitting at a park. In bed together.

 _He’s a drone technician for Sybil. Of course he would have access to any video feed in the city_.

“I,” the voice trembled with deep agony, “Hate. _Her_.” He punched another button, and one of the images came to life. Clarke raised an eyebrow. She and Lexa were in the kitchen of Clarke’s apartment. Clarke even remembered this day. It had rained. The two had been making dinner together, but Lexa had accidentally bumped Clarke while the woman was drinking a glass of wine, spilling it all over her white blouse.

The removal and apology had been worth remembering. Currently, Clarke was topless on the counter, Lexa licking at her breasts and rutting into her. With a scream, Finn swiped through the air and the pictures dispersed.

“But I know how Inspectors can be, Clarke.” He tried to get his breathing under control. “I know how manipulative, and controlling they can be. So that’s why I designed this plan.” He flapped a hand at the cots.

“To show you my love, I sacrificed my men,” he smiled at the perimeter of soldier-like forms. “They’ve pledged their lives to me, and I’ve taken care of them. They enjoy dying for me, you see.” Then he turned back to Clarke. “I tried to get your attention with each bouquet of blood I laid. But those Inspectors always got in the way,” his teeth gnashed.

“So here we are,” he smiled nastily. “And all of these people will die if they try to stop me from loving you, Clarke.” He indicated a plugged in, red flashing button on the console of his computer.

 _I have to get him away from that._ _At any cost_.

Clarke felt sick to her stomach. The entire time this man, this crazed, unreasonable man, was speaking, she knew. She knew that she might not make it out of here alive. Clarke knew that this man would either take her for himself or take her to her grave. And the worst part was, Clarke felt that she could easily communicate with him.

After all, that was the point of Hounds. It takes a raving madwoman to know a raving madman.

She sent a silent message of heartfelt love and devotion to her wife, praying to whatever watched over them that the wonderful guardian of her heart would someday forgive her.

So Clarke smiled.

“I suppose,” she started to move toward Finn, whose eyes started to shine in excitement. “That this is where you’d like me to fall to your feet and congratulate you on a job well done?” She reached a slim hand to ghost the back of a finger over Finn’s cheekbone.

Finn opened him mouth, ready to protest, but Clarke cut him off harshly.

“But that will not happen.” The hand grasped the taller man’s chin in her fingers. Blue eyes narrowed. “I admire your work, Collins, I really do. It’s reminded me of just how much I used to love blood.” Finn looked as though he would faint.

“But you've gone about it recklessly,” Clarke dismissed, stepping past the man, and observing the controls. She placed her Dominator on the table absentmindedly. “This technology… is not my style, you should know that much.”

Finn seemed to gather himself as much as possible, joy in his eyes. He ran over to join Clarke.

“I do, Clarke!”

Clarke shot him a scathing look and Finn quailed, the abusive look crooning to a place deep in the stilled cockles of his twisted heart. He set about explaining the schematics of his computer, trying for all the world to impress the woman.

“I see,” was all his life’s obsession replied.

“Do you,” he swallowed. “Like it? Do you like my present to you, Clarke?”

Clarke turned sharply, and fisted Finn’s greasy hair, yanking the man harshly to his knees, a whimper echoing in the silent warehouse.

“Ma’am,” the accented voice crooned out, 180 degrees at odds with her actions. Finn felt himself grow hard. “You will address me as Ma’am, Collins.”

Finn’s brown eyes gazed obediently and adoringly at the blue above him, his head nodding. Clarke unfisted his hair, and trailed it around his jawbone.

“Good,” she whispered, her ruby lips perfect. She pulled at Finn’s jaw until the man was standing once more. “Now kill three of your men,” she requested lightly.

Finn almost orgasmed.

Desperately, he reached for the controls. A single minute of programming passed. Without a moment’s warning, three men dropped to the ground, their heads rolling from their shoulders, blood collecting on the wrought-iron floor. Clarke’s eyes observed the carnage, and Finn observed his heart’s mistress.

“Beautiful,” the goddess commented. And she turned to Finn. “I had forgotten, you see,” she whispered once more. The voice of a lover caressed Finn’s ear. “What the sight of such wonderful control does to my body,” She stepped toward the taller man, her blue eyes the mad blazing emptiness that Finn had first fell in love with.

“I had forgotten what real excitement felt like,” she reached to grasp Finn’s hair once more, twisting her fist. Not for a direction to pull her, but simply to make the man feel pain. “And I find, that I miss the relief terribly, Finn.”

“Tell me what you wish for, Ma’am,” Finn was practically gasping. “Anything,” he panted, “Anything, and it’s yours.”

Clarke smirked cruelly.

“Well not just anything will do for me, you see.” She released the man, and Finn practically whimpered.

“Of course, Ma’am.”

“I have very,” Clarke paused, her eyes roaming Finn, “specific desires when I find myself like this,” She stepped forward, and placed a hand on Finn’s chest, the bones under her hand jutting and inelegant. “You see, I find that putting equal importance of both parts of ‘bloodlust’ is best.”

Finn’s eyes had darkened in lust.

Clarke turned, giving Finn the view of her firm backside.

“You,” Clarke crooned at one of the men below her. “Come here,”

When the man didn’t move, Finn snapped out of his haze and screamed at him.

“When Ma’am says something, you worship her like she deserves, you fucking pigs!” His rage was a tidal wave, and the man quickly swept to avoid it. He ran to meet Clarke on the upper deck as instructed. When he arrived, the beautiful blonde woman approached at a smooth, easy pace.

“You are going to die in the next 60 seconds,” she whispered airily, the roughness warming the deadly edge to her voice. “How does that make you feel?”

The man’s mouth unlatched, and he breathed. Once, twice.

“Excited, Ma’am,” his voice was hoarse.

“I see,” was all the woman replied. She stepped closer and pressed herself to his body. Gently, she circled him until she was pressing herself to his back. Her hands splayed over his head, reaching his shoulders and arms, slipping back up to plaster over his abdomen and chest.

Finn looked an inch from murdering the man himself.

In a sickening millisecond later, the man’s throat had been slashed, and he toppled to the ground, dead. In his place stood Clarke, an elegant butterfly knife in hand.

The brown-haired man was speechless.

“And that one, was for you, Finn.” The beautiful woman warbled, her sand and honey tones caressing the syllables. “Now,” Clarke continued lightly. “I find that I cannot resist the lust much longer.” Her blue eyes landed on Finn.

“Come on, Collins,” she said easily. “Take me to where I can give you your first reward.”

Finn nodded frantically, trying to decide whether to weep, or bow, or start kissing the woman’s feet. Instead, he followed Clarke’s orders. His smile was manic and overjoyed.

“Thank you, Ma’am!” He started to walk to the door in the upper-level wall. “This way, please,”

Clarke nodded and followed. She cast a glance at the blinking master button on the control panel, and stepped around the growing puddle of blood at her feet and followed the psychopath.

Dark hallways in which only the glow of Finn’s near florescent white skin was visible, and Clarke found herself in a room that was more likened to a jail cell. The room had no windows, with only a table and a low queen sized mattress. There was only one light bulb, and Finn flicked it on, and seemed to wrestle with himself as to what to do with his body.

“I,” he swallowed, looking like a little boy. His nerves seemed to steel, for he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Clarke’s thin waist, his face lowering to Clarke’s eye level, “I know this isn’t to your standards, Ma’am, but it’s all that’s on hand right now,”

Clarke searched the eyes above her, but made no move to touch the man on her own.

“Get your fucking hands off of my wife,”

Carmine lips pulled in a smile. Finn’s mad brown eyes blew wide and they swung around in a rage to look at the entrance of the room.

There, standing tall and calm was Lexa. Her profile strong, chiseled, and for everything she was worth, looking like she wanted to tear Finn to pieces. The grip on her Dominator did not readjust in nervousness, and her eyes never waivered from the tall brown-haired man currently wrapped around Clarke. An unresponsive Clarke, she noted, pleased.

“Hello, Inspector Woods,” Finn breathed hatefully.

“I told you to get your filthy fucking hands off of her,” Lexa replied, stepping into the room and exuding silent fury in every step. She cast a glance at the woman in question, “Clarke,” her rough voice ground out, locking eyes with Finn once more, “Are you alright, Clarke?”

“NO!” Finn screamed, flying at her. He impacted hard with Lexa, tackling her to the ground around the middle, the Inspector’s Dominator clattering uselessly away. He started sending frantic, vicious, and hateful punches to anywhere that would land on the woman.

“You will not speak to her!” Spittle was flying from Finn’s enraged mouth; his eyes alight with crazed fire. Lexa finally managed a solid enough block to punch the madman in the face, stunning him and letting the taller woman grapple her way to top the woman.

Finn bucked and clawed at Lexa, animalistic screams tearing from between his teeth. He grasped the Inspector and head butted her. Lexa reeled backwards and into standing, seeing stars. Finn was on her in an instant, pinning her to the wall, a knife at her throat. His chuckles were wet and desperate.

“Freeze,” a calm voice interrupted what may have been Finn’s parting words to the Inspector. On some sort of instinct, Finn whirled, taking Lexa with him, knife still lethally at her throat.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” the man snarled. Clarke stood calm and ready, Lexa’s Dominator active and pointing at the mad brown head. “You actually love her, don’t you?” He seethed. “Don’t you?!”

Clarke merely regarded him with empty eyes. To her, this animal did not deign an answer. Lexa merely clutched the arm firmly holding a knife. She already had felt it pierce her skin, the warm and now cool blood running from the puncture. She could tell this knife was sharp enough to cut through her throat like butter.

“Well,” the man started to shake with maniacal cackles. “Now, you choose,” He giggled, a crazy smile over his face. “Oh! This is so perfect,” he crowed. “You either let the Inspector live, and stay and love me, or you watch her die and take me in,”

Lexa sucked a breath in. There was no way Clarke would ever let Finn kill her. She knew that Clarke would die before letting Lexa come to danger.

“Clarke,” the smoky voice started, Lexa’s vocal chords running away from the sharp knife. “Please, Princess, don’t do it,” Her emerald eyes were the most loving of green, and Clarke’s heart both hardened and softened at the very private pet name Lexa reserved for her.

‘Princess’ she called her. Her Princess. It had started off on a night where Clarke had keened and whined so pathetically and often that she hadn’t been feeling well, that Lexa had been whipped into a frenzy, trying to fetch the things she required.

The errands she ran both irritated and exhausted her, though she had been more than willing to oblige. In a moment of acerbic commentary, she had replied to a more absurd request with, “Yes, my Princess.” And answered every askance thereafter as such.

By the end of the week, Lexa had realized just how perfect the title fit Clarke. And by the end of the thought, Lexa knew that the sunny haired woman was easily the ruler of her heart, and Clarke’s kingdom her body.

The only times Clarke had heard her say the name was when they were together in bed, a haze of post-coital bliss surrounding them. Receiving it now sent her heart thundering.

“So choose, my love, my Clarke,” Finn screeched, clearly displeased with the fact that Lexa had spoken. Clarke hesitated, and nodded solemnly. Lexa grit her teeth and searched her.

The beautiful lips parted, and she whispered out a final,

“I love you, Lexa.”

She suddenly shifted her aim, and fired.

The bright flash and smell of ozone called to Clarke’s mind the cool voice that had sounded in her ear just seconds before.

_“Target’s Threat Judgment has been updated. Crime Coefficient is 100.4. Enforcement mode is Non-lethal Paralyzer. Aim calmly and disable the target.”_

Lexa’s green eyes widened fractionally as they locked with the blues across from her, her body already shutting down as she tumbled to the ground. She slid from Finn’s grasp, unconscious.

There was silence for a single beat before Finn moved, a smile crawling across his face. Then he faced Clarke, and the smile fell. Those blue, blue eyes were on him. And there was nothing behind them. Not happiness, nor anger, nor hatred, nor relief.

And that lack of emotions, the absence of a response, sane or not, broke Finn’s heart.

_“Target’s Threat Judgment has been updated. Crime Coefficient is 487.5. Enforcement mode is Lethal Eliminator. Aim carefully and eliminate the target.”_

The Dominator changed shape in her hand, and she wasted not even a breath to say goodbye before firing. The shock of energy hit the madman square in the chest, and his body absorbed it momentarily before it started to swell, and extend to the rest of his appendages grotesquely.

Swiftly, Clarke lunged forward, and hauled her unconscious lover into her body, dragging the woman through the open door as quickly as her reflexes allowed. Practically jumping through the opening, she landed painfully on her back, Lexa’s dead weight slumped on top of her just as the sick squelching of Finn’s body being ripped apart from the inside out filled the air.

Clarke let her head fall to the floor, and breathed. Her hands ghosted through Lexa’s hair, over her face, and she relaxed as she felt that strong, unfaltering pulse. She touched a wrist tiredly.

“Division 1, this is Enforcer Griffin, do you read?”

Anya’s voice crackled back at her brokenly.

“Holy shit am I glad to hear from you,” Clarke smiled at the salty relief in the fiery woman’s voice. “Is Lexa alright?”

Clarke frowned gently.

“Well,” her voice strained, “She’s unconscious, and relatively unscathed. But, I believe we have lost an Inspector,”

There was silence over the communication line.

“We’re almost done out here,” it was Alie. “After you got the psychopath away from that control board you showed us, we ambushed the building. Spent most of the time clearing out her suicidal henchmen, and now we’re working on evac-ing the workers in the cots, poor devils.”

Clarke hummed.

“I see,” she replied. “Well done, all.”

“Where are you and Lexa?” Octavia asked.

“Through the door on the upper level,” Clarke informed. “And I’ll need medical drones to help Lexa,”

“Roger,” Indra responded immediately. “They’re on their way.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said softly, cutting off the comm line. She spent the waiting minutes in silence, simply holding her wife and tracing her delicate sleeping features.

* * *

 

A month later, Octavia found Lexa crossing the threshold of the MWPSB’s elevator, Clarke directly behind her. She had been going to get coffee, and was delighted to find the taller woman.

A month in the hospital had been required, for Clarke was too good of a shot for her own good, and had hit Lexa squarely over the heart. The Dominator’s non-lethal mode was still quite powerful, and the charge had left doctors concerned over her heart, much to the woman’s loathing.

But here she stood, flattering suit and restrictive bun in perfect place, her eyes cool and clear as ever.

“Lexa!” Octavia cried, overjoyed at the return of her colleague. “It’s good to have you back!”

Lexa allowed herself a small smile, taking Octavia’s hug for the endearing show it was.

“It’s good to be back,” she replied lowly, yet not unkindly.

The elevator dinged behind her, and Anya, Alie and Indra stepped out.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Alie hollered, slapping the tall woman on the back heartily. Clarke muffled a giggle.

“Woods,” Anya drawled easily. Lexa shot her a look. Indra opened her mouth, a small smile in place.

 _“_ “ _Division 1, please report to the briefing bay. Division 1 to the briefing bay.”_

“Well, duty calls,” Anya tossed out. She continued down the hall to the bay, Alie close behind. Octavia spared Lexa another smile and followed after them.

“Well, it seems the welcome back party will have to wait,” Clarke sighed from her spot next to her wife.

Lexa’s keen green eyes flicked to Indra.

“After you, Inspector,” she said respectfully.

Indra cast her a slightly amused look.

“See you in there, Woods,” she replied back lowly.

Lexa chuckled, watching the woman walk away. She reached for the slender hand beside her, and Clarke twined their fingers together. The viridian eyes looked over to the certain ceruleans at her side. She brought the slim hand in hers and kissed the back of it easily before releasing it.

“Ready?” she asked lowly.

Clarke smiled.

“Always, babe,” she winked at the new Enforcer and took a step away from her. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you'd like to see any other AUs, as well as what you liked/didn't about this one.


End file.
